


The Devil's Greatest Trick

by WritersBlock039



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Tony Stark, Fix-It, Gen, Infinity Gems, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Tony Stark, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-09 15:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19890400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritersBlock039/pseuds/WritersBlock039
Summary: "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."In which even after death, Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff still have the chance to save the universe thanks to six colorful chunks of stone. They just have to do it the long way around.Rewrite of the Marvel Cinematic Universe from Iron Man onwards.





	1. Nulla - Tony I

**Author's Note:**

> I think by reading the description, people can tell what this is gonna be. You see, you think you'll only stick with a fandom or two, but then a movie like Endgame comes out and you just have to go "nope, must fix."
> 
> So I'm doing probably the most cliché fix-it ever: the time travel, change the past to ensure a better future fix-it, and I'm well aware there are already fics out there where the Stones send someone (mostly Tony) back in time to change the outcome of the Infinity War and the Decimation.
> 
> However, hopefully I am the first to write a story where it's Tony _and_ Natasha going back to rewrite the past, and hopefully I am also the first to write a story with them racing to do what you'll find out in this prologue.
> 
> So I'll let you read the prologue and get back to you at the end to explain what's happening!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the Roman numeral system doesn't have anything for 0, so they use _nulla_ instead. So, here's _nulla_ , the fancy word I'm using for prologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, or any characters, movies, or dialogue within the Marvel Cinematic Universe. They belong to Marvel Studios, Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, and all other associates and creators.

_“We’re gonna be OK. You can rest now.”_

For some reason, those were all the words he had needed to hear before he felt himself die. Just that reassurance that all he had done to bring everyone back had paid off for the better. Everyone who had been dusted, from the Spiderling to the Bleeker Street Wizard to Quill’s band of merry Guardians, had returned from their dusting, and Thanos and his army of aliens that would have obliterated them had been dusted in return. If that meant everyone he cared about and loved would be safe, then that was worth the snap he made.

_“We agree. Well done, Anthony Stark.”_

With a startled shout he _should not_ have been able to make, Tony Stark’s eyes snapped open, and the brilliant orange light that shone around him made him instantly close them once again. Just as instantly, he came to two conclusions. One . . . there was no way he should have been able to shout when he was dead as a doornail.

And two . . . he wasn’t really sure, but he was pretty confident the afterlife wasn’t _orange._

He cautiously opened his eyes again, slowly turning on the spot. Sloshing made him look down, and he realized he was toe-deep in water that reflected the same orange of the sky. He lifted his foot and blinked when he saw water roll off his shoe like he was waterproof.

That was the other thing that surprised him. He was no longer wearing his Iron Man armor; instead, he was in dark jeans, motor boots, and a black track jacket, almost similar to what he had worn during the Time Heist. How the hell had he somehow woken up in an afterlife with an orange sky, water floor, in clothes he hadn’t been wearing before? “What the hell?” he finally muttered.

_“Not quite, Anthony.”_

His head shot up at the female voice, clear as bells, and he looked around, squinting into the orange sky. “Who’s speaking?” he demanded, mind flashing back to when Scott Lang had disabled his suit in Leipzig.

A snort came from nowhere, followed by an annoyed, male baritone voice. _“For the smartest among the mortals, he is quite slow.”_

 _“Keep in mind, brother.”_ This male voice was older, and sounded slightly amused. _“Even my bearer was the same when he first came into his powers.”_

 _“And the one I was joined with never truly understood how to use me.”_ That was another male voice, the youngest of the three, with an accent Tony recognized. _“When faced with what is not understood, it takes time to comprehend.”_

Another snort from the first voice. _“Do not even remark on that, brother.”_

 _“Me?”_ the second voice asked, definitely sounding amused this time. _“I would never.”_

 _“On the topic of understanding,”_ a female voice cut in this time, a sultry alto tone. _“The one who attempted to utilize me faced consequences beyond his understanding.”_

 _“Who had the worst consequences, sister?”_ the female, bell-like voice asked. _“You banished him to watch over me.”_

_“Yet he could never reach you, sister. He had to watch while others sought you.”_

The bell-like voice sighed. _“Yet he was pleased to send sacrifices to their deaths. That was not a consequence for him after all he had done.”_

Tony’s mind was spinning a mile a minute, and he finally pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m hearing voices in my head,” he announced. “I’m going insane.”

There was a moment of silence, then the bell-like voice finally spoke again. _“No, you are not going insane, Anthony. On the contrary . . . you have never been insane at all.”_

“Some people may disagree,” Tony mumbled.

The accented male voice hummed in disapproval. _“Then that is their problem, not yours.”_

 _“Brother, that is not what he is here for,”_ the eldest male voice reprimanded.

 _“Then stop wasting yourself, brother,”_ the annoyed male voice huffed.

Tony’s mind froze, then started connecting dots. _His bearer coming into powers . . . wasting himself . . . not remarking on a comment about_ time . . . “Are you the _Infinity Stones?”_ he finally asked, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

All five voices he had heard before buzzed. _“A pleasure to finally speak to you at last, Anthony,”_ the bell-like voice said.

Tony was speechless for a few seconds; he had never imagined the Stones would have _voices,_ let alone sound so . . . _alive._ The five were speaking like they were siblings, yet still held such power in them –

Wait . . . _five_ voices? That couldn’t be right. “Shouldn’t there be six of you?” were the first words out of his mouth when his tongue was untied.

The eldest voice started laughing while the annoyed voice admitted, _“I was not expecting those to be the first words he said after that little reveal.”_

 _“You weren’t around him for very long, brother,”_ the accented male voice reminded him.

 _“Sister?”_ the alto voice called out.

 _“I’m here.”_ Tony almost jumped; Reality’s female voice sounded so _young,_ it was like he was hearing a teenager. _“I apologize; after my time as the Aether, it is difficult maintaining a different form.”_

“It’s fine,” Tony waved the apology off, then froze. “I just accepted an apology from an _Infinity Stone.”_

The annoyed voice snorted again. _“Has he_ still _not realized he is speaking to us?”_

 _“I highly doubt he has ever spoken to any of us in this form before, brother,”_ the accented voice countered.

 _“The man has constructed Artificial Intelligences far more advanced than the rest of his race has ever imagined and has built his suits from nanites, yet still cannot comprehend us speaking to him?”_ the retort came.

God, they really did sound like brothers. “I’ve never heard _any_ of you speak, and none of you have been particularly vocal before, so pardon me,” Tony scoffed.

He wasn’t expecting the silence he received after that statement. _“That is because you never could have heard us speak before,”_ the bell-like voice said. _“Entering my world has allowed you to do so.”_

“Your world?” Tony repeated.

_“The Soul World.”_

Well, that answered the question about which Stone _that_ was. Then the words caught up with him, and he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “So,” he tried to clear it. “I take it you’re the Soul Stone, then.”

She hummed in confirmation. _“I am.”_

Tony nodded, absently pacing. A puzzle to figure out the rest of the Stones . . . he was good at puzzles. “Barton said the Red Skull was the guardian of you,” he finally said. “And the Stone he had before . . . he had the Tesseract. That other female voice, is that the Space Stone?”

The alto voice chuckled. _“Well done.”_

So that left the two other voices. He knew the eldest was Time, thanks to the ever so helpful hints dropped by his . . . well, he supposed he could call them _brothers,_ based on what Wong had said. These six Stones had been created around the same time. And based on what each of those voices had said . . . “I know that accent,” he spoke up. “It’s not the same voice, but it’s close to what J.A.R.V.I.S. and Vision had. You’re the Mind Stone.”

 _“I am indeed,”_ the accented voice said warmly.

Tony nodded decisively. “That leaves Mr. Pessimist as the Power Stone, I suppose.”

Space laughed as Power growled. _“Careful, Stark. But yes, you are correct.”_

“Good,” Tony nodded, absently rubbing his hands together. “OK, that’s out of the way. Can I ask another question? Kind of important, I’ll let the rest of you talk after I get an answer.”

 _“What do you wish to know?”_ Power asked.

Tony took a deep breath. “Pep said they were gonna be OK. Was she . . . right? I barely remember anything except for what she said.”

 _“Virginia was correct,”_ Space informed him. _“Thanos and his armies have been destroyed. They turned to dust, just as half of every population in the universe was.”_

 _“Every population has been saved,”_ Reality chimed in. _“You saved them.”_

Tony sighed in relief, feeling himself relax. His snap had done exactly what he had hoped, then. Thanos would no longer be a threat. “Good.”

 _“It is,”_ Time agreed. _“But we are not satisfied.”_

And there went that relaxed feeling, Tony thought as he stiffened again. “I’m sorry?” he asked.

Power was growling again, except Tony had the feeling his anger was not aimed at him. _“Thanos was never supposed to gain us,”_ he spat. _“He never should have been able to.”_

 _“He never should have even_ touched _us,”_ Mind agreed, sounding as annoyed as his brother had been moments ago.

 _“My Keeper did all in his power to find a way the Mad Titan would not win,”_ Time said gravely; with each Stone’s voice, Tony felt the air thicken with their fury. _“He found one among over fourteen million.”_

 _“He never should have had to look at all,”_ Space hissed.

 _“We never should have been used for genocide!”_ Reality cried. _“All the chaos! All the death! That is not our way!”_

 _“Peace, brothers and sisters,”_ Soul soothed. _“We have a chance to right this wrong.”_

Tony swallowed, feeling the fury ooze away. “Guessing that chance involves me.”

_“Indeed.”_

Flickers of smoky red energy flew past Tony’s eyes, and six images formed in front of him: the orange Soul Stone, glowing ominously; the tendrils of the Aether twisting and turning; Strange’s necklace, the Stone inside pulsing green; Loki’s scepter, the jewel at the tip glittering; the Tesseract, energy wisping about inside; and a stone-like orb, appearing to vibrate, ready to break at any moment. _“When we were created, we scattered ourselves across the universe, hoping that a being such as Thanos would never find us,”_ Time explained.

“Except he did,” Tony felt the need to point out.

Space made a sound similar to the clicking of a tongue. _“Because not all of us found our correct Keepers before he found us.”_

Tony paused. “Your correct _whats?”_

 _“Our Keepers,”_ Power repeated. _“We have never bowed, never submitted, not until Thanos forced us into his gauntlet and used us as he wished. Prior to then, we only aided when we wished. We were never truly controlled, and we never would have been.”_

 _“The only ones we would truly allow to control us of our own free will would be our Keepers,”_ Soul continued as Tony looked at the images in front of him in a new light. _“Guardians who could use us correctly and properly, allowing us to reach our full potential. We separated ourselves in hope that our Keepers would find us and that the wrong person would never unite the six of us.”_ She sighed in disappointment. _“And yet, Thanos did exactly that.”_

“And when he snapped his fingers, he killed half of every population in the universe,” Tony murmured.

 _“And you and your fellow Avengers found a way to reverse that action,”_ Mind said. _“Yet still, after Thanos snapped his fingers a second time, we died and could no longer be used.”_

Reality made an upset sound that sounded remarkably similar to a whine from Tony’s daughter that he almost wanted to find a corporeal version of her to hug comfortingly. _“That would be our legacy. One of death and destruction and genocide. How could that be?”_

 _“It will not be,”_ Soul promised. _“This can be fixed, sister.”_

“You’re incredibly optimistic,” Tony frowned, twisting and turning. It was still a bit weird to hear these voices all around him and not see any source at all. At least with his A.I.s, he knew they were coming from a speaker somewhere. Here in the open air? That was just weird. “How does this get fixed?”

 _“Find our Keepers,”_ Soul answered simply.

Tony blinked once, then twice, then shook his head. “Uh, two small problems there. One: I’m _dead._ Two: so are the six of you . . . at least the versions Thanos used, and the ones _I_ used need to go back to their timelines.”

 _“Yes, you – and we – are dead,”_ Soul acquiesced. _“But you are also correct . . . we are the versions that_ you _used.”_

 _“And we are certainly not dead right now,”_ Time said. _“We still have our power. And we can use that power to send you back.”_

Tony took a physical step back, he was so surprised. “Send – ” He almost choked on his words. _“Send me back?!”_

 _“Back to a time where you could find all of us without Thanos gathering us,”_ Power confirmed.

 _“To a time where our Keepers could be saved and shown their rightful paths,”_ Mind continued.

 _“A time where we can be bonded to our_ true _Keepers once and for all,”_ Space finished.

 _“And we want_ your _help in doing so, Anthony,”_ Soul said softly. _“Only the son of Laufey knew of this threat better than you.”_

Tony bit his tongue, having to stop himself from saying anything against Loki, the one who had brought the Chitauri to Earth and started his nightmares in the first place. According to Thor, Loki had aided him when he needed him most, and he had given up the Tesseract to save his life. Thanos had killed him when Loki had tried to kill him to save Thor. At least he had died better than who he had been. “I don’t suppose you can actually tell me who these Keepers are?” he asked.

Reality laughed, and _God,_ Tony was really imagining that as an older Morgan’s laughter. _“You know who they are. You have met them all before.”_

“Because that _really_ narrows the list down.”

 _“You will find them, Anthony,”_ Mind said. _“You did in the end.”_

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. These Stones were really making their case to him. “I can change things?” he asked, hearing his voice crack. “Everyone who died, all those bullshit decisions everyone was making . . . ”

 _“They can be changed,”_ Reality confirmed. _“How much can be changed, however . . . not everything can be. Some events must happen for destiny to arrive.”_

“And this timeline?” Tony asked. “With Thanos, the Decimation, my death, yours?”

 _“Will cease to exist once you are sent back,”_ Time answered.

Tony scratched the back of his head; now he was _really_ almost convinced. “Sounds like a lot for just little old me,” he said.

It was Mind who laughed this time. _“We never intended to send you back alone.”_

Tony’s head shot up at that, and it was Soul who spoke this time, a tinge of sadness in her voice. _“Never before has anyone fought to be the sacrifice to gain me. Never has anyone been so ready and willing to die to gain me. She deserves the same chance you have now.”_

Tony’s heart skipped a beat or five at Soul’s words, but there was a bright flare of orange light before he could speak a word. He flung an arm over his eyes, closing them to avoid being blinded, but just as quickly as the light appeared, it was quickly gone. All that signified something had happened was a sharp inhale of breath, then a shaky gasp of _“Tony?”_

Tony quickly lowered his arm, and his astonished brown eyes met shocked, teary eyes of emerald green. He swallowed around tears of his own as he took in the braided red hair, still with a hint of blonde in it, rain jacket and dark clothes his friend was wearing before his face split with the widest grin he had felt in a while. “Nat,” he choked out. “Did you miss me?”

 _“Tony!”_ Natasha Romanoff burst towards him when he spoke, and Tony finally let his own tears fall as he hugged his teammate, burying his face in her hair as she clung to him. “Oh, my God!”

“I’m so sorry, Nat,” he breathed. “What happened to you – ”

“Did we win?” she interrupted, pulling back to look up at him. “Did we get them all? Did we win?”

Tony gulped. “Yeah,” he nodded jerkily. “We won. We got everyone back. Thanos is gone, too.”

Natasha blinked. “But Thor – ”

“Killed him, I know,” Tony nodded. “It’s a long story. Basically, we had to fight him and all his armies _again.”_

Natasha appeared to mull that over before horror dawned in her eyes. “Then why are you here?” she asked.

Tony took a deep breath. “Because I had to use the Stones to end him,” he answered. “I used the ones we gathered to decimate Thanos and his armies, just like he did to our friends and everyone he killed in the universe. I didn’t survive that.”

Natasha put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock. “Tony!”

“Nat,” Tony put his hands on her shoulders, looking right into her eyes. “We can change that. We have a chance to make sure that _never_ happens.”

Natasha’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly. “What?” she finally sputtered.

 _“Anthony speaks truly, Natalia Romanoff,”_ Time’s voice rang out, and Tony had the rare pleasure of seeing Natasha jump and flail about, trying to find where the voice came from. _“You have a chance to set things right.”_

“Where – ?” Natasha began.

“It’s a long story, but it’s the Infinity Stones,” Tony winced.

“The _what?”_

“Yeah, they sound like typical siblings.”

 _“We’re not_ typical,” Power grumbled.

 _“On that, we agree,”_ Mind snorted.

“See?” Tony waved a hand in exasperation. “But Nat, they can send us back in time to get the Stones before Thanos can.”

Natasha’s jaw dropped. “Every mistake we made, every person who died?”

“We can do what we can to fix them,” Tony nodded eagerly.

Natasha swallowed hard, a disbelieving smile forming on her face. “Oh, my God . . . ”

“And we just need to make sure the right Stones end up with the right people,” Tony nodded.

Natasha blinked. “What?”

 _“Thanos was never supposed to have us,”_ Time explained patiently. _“We were meant to be with our Keepers, our true guardians and protectors.”_

“Oh,” Natasha said faintly. “So . . . Thanos – ?”

 _“Is certainly_ not _any of our Keepers,”_ Power said dryly.

“Do you know who they are?” Natasha looked at Tony hopefully.

“I can think of one,” Tony admitted, eyeing Strange’s necklace; the green light seemed to be winking at him. “But the rest of them? No clue.”

 _“You have met them,”_ Space promised. _“And you will find them again.”_

“They get cryptic like this,” Tony gestured towards the sky. “It’s very annoying.”

 _“Careful, Stark,”_ Power growled.

 _“Make your decision,”_ Soul interrupted. _“Remain deceased and remain in my world, or receive the chance to change time, change what happened to you, and set things right.”_

 _“Choose!”_ Reality called.

Natasha seemed to stare into space. “Nat?” Tony asked quietly.

“If we do this,” she said quietly, “you’ll be risking what you had with Pepper. What about Morgan?”

Tony’s heart twisted at the thought of his wife and daughter. Honestly, that was the biggest con he could think of. Did he want to have a timeline where he may not have Pepper? Where Morgan may not exist?

But other thoughts crept into his head as well. What lives could have been spared when Vanko was a problem? How many could have been saved in New York if the right action had been taken earlier? How could the Mandarin and Extremis have gone? The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., Ultron, the Sokovia Accords . . . the deaths of Pietro Maximoff, Loki, Quill’s girlfriend, Vision, Natasha, and everyone who were decimated?

He swallowed hard. “I had five years with Pep and just a little less with Morgan,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t have had that if it weren’t for Strange’s decision to give up the Time Stone. But he never should have had to do what he did. If we can even do a _fraction_ of what we may be able to . . . this is worth it, Nat.”

Natasha looked up at him, licking her lips. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “But if we do this, Nat . . . I don’t think I can do this alone. I need your help, teams or loyalties be damned. Please, Nat.”

Natasha stared long and hard at him before she shakily nodded. “Together,” she decided.

Tony felt his shoulders slump in relief, and he nodded as well. “Together,” he agreed. She silently held out her hand, and Tony squeezed it tightly. “We’re ready!” he called.

_“Excellent.”_

The world around them seemed to hum, and the images winked out of existence. _“We have made a decision,”_ Time declared as Tony reached for Natasha’s other hand, which the Russian took without hesitation. _“A time that allows the two of you to think individually before coming together once more at the most crucial point. Your destination is the year 2009, fourteen years prior to your last year.”_

Tony’s eyes widened, and Natasha looked up at him in shock. “The Ten Rings,” she breathed. “Your first year!”

Tony nodded numbly. _“Stand strong,”_ Mind said. _“You’ll find there is much you will be able to do once you set your minds to it.”_

 _“But be wary,”_ Power warned. _“Thanos will still seek us. Should he even collect one of us, it will be an even harder fight for you to win. Thor told you what he was capable of with just me. Take care.”_

“Well,” Tony took a deep breath, looking at Natasha. “See you soon . . . Natalie.”

Natasha smiled. “See you then, Mr. Stark.”

Tony grinned. _“Good fortune, Anthony Stark and Natalia Romanoff!”_ Soul called as tendrils of green, orange, red, blue, purple, and yellow spun around them. _“Good fortune in your challenges to come!”_

Then the colors obscured Tony’s vision, and as the Soul World faded around them, he closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself to wake up wherever in his timeline the Stones dropped him. The last thing he comprehended was Natasha’s hands squeezing his, and him barely managing to squeeze back, and then he felt he was freefalling.

_Here we go again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, the idea of the fic: in this version, each Infinity Stone has a Keeper meant to guard it with the abilities and the will to use it. It's basically like Mjolnir, except with one person - only one person is worthy to guard and use each Infinity Stone, and hint: Thanos isn't the correct Keeper for any of them. Feel free to guess who some of them are!
> 
> Like I said, this will be a rewrite of the Marvel Cinematic Universe from Iron Man onwards with the exception of "The Incredible Hulk" - I haven't seen it, and Tony's only appearance was at the end of it, so unfortunately, it gets booted out. But every movie following that including Tony and/or Nat (or maybe not!) is fair game.
> 
> I will also say that there will be different pairings than in canon. This book is about making changes to canon for a better endgame, and I have nothing against most of the pairings (though I wasn't a fan of Nat/Bruce), so I'm changing some up. Hopefully everyone likes what I will choose!
> 
> Anyway, I hope I did a good job with Tony's POV and kept him in character, as well as provided a good representation of the Stones. If you didn't get each of them:  
> \- male, baritone, mostly annoyed/growly: Power  
> \- young male, accented: Mind  
> \- eldest male: Time  
> \- sultry, alto female: Space  
> \- young female compared to Morgan: Reality  
> \- female, bell-like: Soul
> 
> I see the six of them as siblings since they were created around the same time, so I tried to incorporate that into them.
> 
> Next time I update, we'll be delving into the movie that started it all - Iron Man!


	2. I ~ Tony II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets sent back in time, sees a face he never forgot, and comes face to face with the Ten Rings once again. He still doesn't like them.
> 
> Spoilers for "Iron Man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I initially thought "Iron Man" occurs in 2008, but I checked the Marvel Cinematic Universe wiki and found out it takes place in 2009. It's amazing the things you find out when you check the timeline to make sure you don't make a mistake.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, or any characters, movies, or dialogue within the Marvel Cinematic Universe. They belong to Marvel Studios, Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, and all other associates and creators.

In hindsight, Tony really should have remembered that in addition to the many pros of going back in time, there were also many cons. For instance, cons . . . he would have to get used to building suits that didn’t manifest on his body from an arc reactor, get used to still being in control of Stark Industries, have to deal with many of his old villains . . .

And Afghanistan. He could one hundred percent say he _was not_ looking forward to Afghanistan.

But _wow,_ it was a shock when he opened his eyes and found himself squinting in darkness. It was such a shock that he tried to jerk upright, knocking over the glass on the table over and yanking on . . . right, it was a car battery that was powering his first arc reactor.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

And wasn’t _that_ a shock as well, and Tony looked to the side, shocked to see Yinsen at the mirror on the wall. His mouth opened and closed before he realized there was still a tube in his nose, and grimacing, he slowly pulled it out. He jerked slightly at the noise it made, then tossed it to the side, wrinkling his nose.

In that time, Yinsen had moved over to the fire he had in the cave, whistling a tune absently to himself. Tony slowly sat up, careful not to move too quickly, and looked long and hard at the battery that was currently powering the only thing saving his life. “A car battery,” he finally said in disbelief, still shocked at how rudimentary tech had been fourteen years ago . . . well, now, Tony supposed. He was back in 2009 now, not 2023.

“A car battery, yes,” Yinsen looked up at him. “And it is hooked up to an electromagnet, which is keeping shrapnel from entering your heart.”

“Shrapnel?” Tony repeated, wincing and rubbing his head. Either he was still woozy from the time he had spent unconscious in Afghanistan before waking up, or the time travel was making him dizzy. It could have been both.

“Yes,” Yinsen nodded. “I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there’s a lot left, and it’s headed into your atrial septum.” He stood up, reaching for a glass bottle. “Here, want to see? I have a souvenir. Take a look.” Tony caught the bottle tossed to him, and he cringed, looking once more at the bloody shards inside. “I’ve seen many wounds like that in my village. We call them the walking dead because it takes about a week for the barbs to reach the vital organs.”

Tony finally looked up at Yinsen. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

Yinsen paused, looking at him. “You’re welcome,” he nodded. Tony put the bottle down and zipped up the sweatshirt he wore, looking around the cave to get his bearings back. Some moments in Afghanistan he remembered much better than others, and he had learned from Natasha and Clint that it never hurt to keep looking. He found the camera in the corner almost instantly. “That’s right,” Yinsen smirked. “Smile!”

Tony looked back at Yinsen, frowning. “Have we met before?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You seem familiar.”

Yinsen’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, we did,” he nodded. “Once, at a technical conference in Bern. I’m surprised – if I had been that drunk, I wouldn’t have been able to stand, much less give a lecture on integrated circuits or remember the face of a man you spoke to for only a few minutes.”

Tony smirked. “Must have been an impact on me, then.”

Yinsen blinked, but both men turned when the door rattled and they heard men shouting. “Come on, stand up!” Yinsen rushed to him, and Tony was grateful for the help in hurrying to do so. “Stand up! Just do as I do.” Tony nodded, and when Yinsen told him to put his hands up, he did so quickly, just as the door slid open.

It was still a gut punch when he recognized the weaponry in the hands of the terrorists. “Those are my guns,” he scowled, feeling more anger than shock last time. _It’s going to be just as satisfying kicking their asses again._

“Do you understand me?” Yinsen hissed. “Do as I do!”

So Tony stayed silent, even though he was gritting his teeth as the leader of the terrorists spoke in Arabic. He almost missed when Yinsen started translating. “He says ‘welcome, Tony Stark, the most famous mass murderer in the history of America.’ He is honored.” Tony’s eyes narrowed as the man continued. “He wants you to build the missile, the Jericho missile that you demonstrated.” Tony didn’t need to look at the diagram Yinsen showed him, but he did anyway. “This one.”

He had no desire to almost drown again, but Tony wasn’t about to not give an answer and have them imply it as him being complicit. “I refuse,” he said simply.

* * *

Tony supposed that after almost getting beaten to death by two super soldiers in the freezing cold of Siberia, getting his head repeatedly dunked in water was much easier to withstand. But his past self was nowhere near as experienced to action and pain tolerance as his future self (though he was technically his future self in his past self’s body . . . time travel was weird), so Tony despised the burn in his lungs as a bag was forced over his head and he was dragged out of the cave.

The bright sunlight made spots appear in his vision, and he closed his eyes, waiting for his head to settle. When he opened them again, it was to the still horrifying sight of Stark Industries weaponry of all kinds scattered across the terrorist camp.

The terrorist leader said something, and Yinsen said in a deadpan voice, “He wants to know what you think.”

Tony went with exactly what he said last time. “I think you got a lot of my weapons.”

The man kept talking, and Yinsen kept translating. “He says they have everything you need to build the Jericho missile. He wants you to make the list of materials. He says for you to start working immediately, and when you’re done, he will set you free.”

Tony eyed the man’s hand, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. That would probably get him and Yinsen hurt, despite how satisfying it would be. This was the only way he could think of that he could get started building the first Iron Man suit, his ticket to escape . . . no, _their_ ticket to escape. Because if Tony had been sent back into the past to change things, he could start right now, and he could start with Yinsen.

So he smiled a shark like smile with all teeth, shaking the man’s hand and remembering when he had defeated all the men he had in Gulmira after his first time using the Mark III in a fight. “No, he won’t.”

“No, he won’t,” Yinsen agreed grimly.

* * *

“Build the Jericho, my ass,” Tony scoffed the moment they were back in the cave. He was about to start pacing when he realized he had put the car battery down, and with a huff, he picked it up to do what he planned on doing. He was really ready to build the next arc reactor so he wasn’t hauling a noticeable amount of extra weight along with him.

Yinsen watched him before speaking. “I’m sure they’re looking for you, Stark. But they will never find you in these mountains.”

Tony nodded in agreement. “But those are _my_ weapons, out there,” he pointed towards wherever the cave entrance was; by Yinsen’s startled face, he’d gotten it somewhat correct. “My life’s work, and _terrorists_ are using it, some of the worst of the worst.” He shook his head, facing the man. “If I die here, that’s what my legacy’s gonna be. Unacceptable.”

Yinsen smirked. “The great Tony Stark has more defiance in him.”

“Damn right I do,” Tony nodded. “And if nothing works . . . the bright side is they’ll kill us either way. Or if not, I’ll probably be dead in a week.”

Yinsen snorted. “Well, then, this is a very important week for you, isn’t it?”

Tony smirked into the flames, already feeling adrenaline get his heart pumping. He was ready to do one of the things he did best: build an Iron Man suit.

* * *

“If this is going to be my work station, I want it well-lit,” Tony told the Ten Rings as Yinsen translated, several of the men rushing around to do as they said. “I want these up. I need welding gear, I don’t care if it’s acetylene or propane. I need a soldering station, I need helmets, I’m gonna need goggles. I would like a smelting cup, I need two sets of precision tools.”

He started working almost immediately with Yinsen watching over him. He was almost working on autopilot, letting his hands do the work as his mind thought of other things . . . more specifically, how he could get Yinsen out of the cave alive. He was the man who had encouraged him to do more with his life, had seen the potential for him to be more than just a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. He had been the one to save his life, had been the one to essentially build the first arc reactor for his chest. Oh, that was an idea . . . Yinsen was a skilled doctor as well. Tony could ask him to stay with Stark Industries and help him with the arc reactors. Whatever happened, Tony wanted to know Yinsen would be safe and nowhere near Gulmira when the Ten Rings hit the village.

He was a good translator, too. Speaking of . . . “How many languages do you speak?” he asked when he honestly couldn’t recall as he worked on one of his weapons.

“A lot,” Yinsen shrugged. “But apparently not enough for this place. They speak Arabic, Urdu, Dari, Pashto, Mongolian, Farsi, Russian.”

Tony grimaced. “And who runs this place?” He knew, of course, but that would definitely confuse people if he (the 2023 Tony) knew who his captors were when he (his 2009 self) wasn’t supposed to.

“They are your loyal customers, sir,” Yinsen answered. “They call themselves the Ten Rings.”

And wasn’t that a name Tony still despised.

* * *

“You know,” Yinsen crouched down by Tony as he went to work on the end of one of the weapons. “We might be more productive if you include me in the planning process.”

“I have an idea,” Tony told him, yanking out the core. “Just give me . . . one second.” He plopped it on the work bench and used a pair of pliers to examine inside. “OK, we don’t need this," he declared after finding what he needed, tossing the rest of the core behind him and onto the floor.

Yinsen watched the core drop, then turned his attention to what Tony held up. “What is that?”

“That’s palladium,” Tony answered. “0.15 grams. That’s what I need you to do. We need at least 1.6, so can you break down the other eleven?”

Yinsen nodded in agreement.

* * *

Tony knew this worked before in the previous timeline. Actually, he was pretty impressed with how well he remembered how a lot of things went in the previous timeline.

That didn’t mean he was still a teeny tiny bit nervous as Yinsen used tongs to remove the bowl out of the fire. “Careful,” he couldn’t help but warn. “Careful, we only get one shot at this.”

“Relax,” Yinsen told him, moving over to the table. “I have steady hands. Why do you think you’re still alive?”

Just like last time, Tony didn’t have a good counter to that. Yinsen was right, after all; he was alive thanks to him. That reminded him . . . past him hadn’t asked Yinsen’s name yet. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“I am Yinsen,” he answered, carefully pouring the melted liquid into the mold.

“Yinsen,” Tony nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Yinsen chuckled. “Nice to meet you, too.”

* * *

Tony was in his element as he created the next arc reactor, even if it was in a cave away from his workshop with the best materials. He knew how to make this work, he knew his way around the cave, and most importantly, he knew the timeline he had to get this right. He couldn’t go outside, but he could tell he had more time than before.

That was unless the Ten Rings caught on, at least. But at least he was a bit ahead of schedule.

He finished the last bit of soldering, then flicked the switch to turn the power on. He sensed Yinsen come up behind him, and he peered down at the arc reactor, eyes wide. “Wow,” he whispered, bending down to get a closer look. “That doesn’t look like a Jericho missile.”

Tony cracked a grin. “That’s because it’s a miniaturized arc reactor,” he said. “I got a big one powering my factory at home. It should keep the shrapnel out of my heart.” _It would,_ but how was the 2009 Tony Stark supposed to know that?

And now he was thinking of himself in the third person . . . wonderful. At least his head had sorted itself out quickly. “But what could it generate?” Yinsen wondered.

“If my math is right – and it always is – three gigajoules per second,” Tony answered.

Yinsen looked at him with wide eyes. “That could run your heart for fifty lifetimes!”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “Or something big for fifteen minutes.” He stood up and moved to a clear table, picking up the flimsy paper with pieces of designs on them. He turned on the lamp and handed Yinsen the papers. “This is our ticket out of here.”

Yinsen frowned, flicking through the papers. “What is it?”

“Flatten them out and look.”

Yinsen did just that, and Tony grinned, seeing the Mark I armor form under the light. “Oh, wow,” Yinsen breathed in shock. “Impressive.”

Tony nodded in agreement, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I really missed Yinsen when I wrote this. And I discovered Ramin Djawadi had a really incredible soundtrack. I'm really excited to write the rest of the movie.
> 
> Next time - Afghanistan part two and working on the Iron Man armor.


End file.
